


Winter Traditions

by Witch_Nova221



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5484071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witch_Nova221/pseuds/Witch_Nova221
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A seasonal fluffy two parter. Belle realises they are approaching the Solstice at the Dark Castle and revives a tradition she shared with her mother with Rumpel's help. In Storybrooke, Belle and Rumpel are looking forward to their first Christmas and Rumpel has a few surprises up his sleeve. Rumbelle and Swanfire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello dearies. Here is a little seasonal two parter for you. It’s not intended to be canon and is a shameless excuse for fluff but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Part two will put in an appearance on Christmas Eve.

Belle peered out of the carriage as the horses drew them along the treacherous mountain pass, keeping true to the safest path even without a driver to guide them. She looked across to the mage sat on the opposite bench and knew it was his magic alone that kept the horses from throwing them into the ravine. Rumpelstiltskin, the Dark One and her master for the past eight weeks, the man she could not fathom despite trying daily to do so. They had not had a happy beginning after she had pledged herself to his service to save her homeland from the ogres, his temper and her stubbornness preventing them from finding much in the way of common ground but Belle was happy in the thought that it was slowly changing.

Ever since he had shown her his humanity in sparing Robin Hood’s life and they had found their mutual love of books when he had welcomed her to his library the tension that had existed between them had begun to thaw. He was still mercurial and prone to bouts of fiery temper, usually when she mentioned family though she was yet to find out why, but they became fewer and farther between and the silences that had once filled the castle now became conversations. She allowed herself a small smile as she regarded him, his eyes on the scenery outside the window allowing her to do so at her leisure. He was wrapped against the winter chill in a long, caped jacket of red velvet, the material rich and warm and Belle had already given in the urge to touch it as she had removed the imaginary lint from his shoulder before they had left he castle. The material she wore was similar but in a deep midnight blue, the dress and fur lined cape far finer than the usual linen dress she wore to tend her chores in the castle.

Despite the fact that she was slowly developing a friendship with her master, Belle had always remained within the walls of the castle, the sorcerer having enchanted the wards around the castle grounds to prevent her from leaving. The only exception being when he had taken her out in pursuit of Robin Hood with a view of punishing her for releasing the thief and instead allowing him a sight of the humanity that still lived beneath the façade of the beast. It had been a shock therefore when she had found the heavy velvet dress set at the end of her bed when she had woken that morning, still not used to the room itself even after it being over a month since he had liberated her from the dungeon and given her chambers of her own. A note had been pinned to the dress, instructing her that she was to dress swiftly in her warmest clothes and to meet her master in the entrance hall. She had done so and had beaten him to their rendezvous point, his shock at seeing her there when he arrived allowing her to see his gaze flick in appreciation over the dress she wore before he had thrown up the mask of the imp once more. 

He had quickly shoved a basket into her hands and informed her that she was to accompany him to the village below, business taking him there to speak with the mayor while she would be required to make a round of the shops to replenish the stocks in the castle. She knew he could do so as easily with magic but she didn’t question him, instead taking his arm when he offered it and letting him lead her to the coach already pulled up to the steps by the door. The snow was thick and heavy on the ground but the roads remained clear, another boon of his magic, but Belle had still been worried when they had reached the narrow paths down the mountainside. The gloved hand that had closed briefly over her own as she stared worriedly out of the window had both surprised and comforted her and she had relaxed back against the plush seat to watch the scenery roll by, convinced that her master would not let them fall.

She turned her eyes away from the study of the sorcerer before her as he turned back to face her, his wild eyes and green-gold skin no longer startling her but she had no desire to be caught staring. She felt his eyes on her as she kept her own trained on the snow covered terrain, the feeling a familiar one after weeks of him watching her through the spokes of his spinning wheel first in distrust and then in a way neither of them was yet ready to confront. She gave him no indication that she knew he was watching her and it was only when the coach bumped onto the road that led them to the village that she felt his gaze leave her.

The carriage rumbled along for a few more minutes before it came to a halt, the silence of the mountainside replaced with the sounds of the village around them. Rumpel was the first to step out of the carriage, turning and offering her a hand to help her out. She was glad for the warm boots he had provided her with as the snow crunched beneath them, the winters deeply cold and heavy in this region of the world. The villagers that had noticed the arrival of the carriage were watching them warily, none of them happy to see the appearance of their dark liege lord despite the young woman accompanying him. The reputation of the Dark One was formidable throughout the Enchanted Forest but Belle couldn’t help but bristle as she heard the mutterings of the people around them, knowing from Rumpel himself that the village flourished because of the patronage of the Dark Castle, the mage purchasing everything he could from the trades and artisans who lived there and his magic ensuring they never suffered from plagues or failed crops. Gratitude however seemed a distant hope and Belle wished they could see the gentleness she was slowly growing used to.

“I will be several hours dearie,” came the familiar voice by her ear, “If you are finished with your tasks before then you may instruct the carriage to take you back to the castle.”

Belle nodded, “Don’t you want me to wait for you?” she said.

“No point in you freezing and taking ill waiting for me,” he said, “I have no use for my maid to be keeping to her bed for the entire season because she caught a cold. Get on with you now and if you have any bother just call my name.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” said Belle, reaching out on instinct and grasping his sleeve as he made to walk away, “Take care.”

A small half smile twitched at his lips, the softened look of his eyes making her smile in return.

“You too dearie,” he said before he headed off, the crowd that had slowly gathered swiftly parting as he headed into the village. 

Belle reached into the carriage and retrieved her basket, tucking it under her arm before she followed the path Rumpel had taken, though the crowd didn’t part as easily for her though the looks she received made her believe she was almost as feared as the Dark One himself. She moved from shop to stall, hating the look of fear from every trader she met that only melded into distrust as she spoke kindly to them. They were happy enough to take the coin Rumpel had given her to procure the goods he had sent her for though; quite content with his spun gold even if they hated the magic that created it. 

She was soon laden down with her burdens; enough food to sustain them both for a few weeks and some strange herbs and potions Rumpel had claimed a need for but had neglected to mention what they would be used in. Belle chose not to entertain the thought, preferring to separate the thought of her master from the dark deal maker he was to everyone else. She walked round to the far side of the carriage, placing her burdens inside and making sure they were secure beneath the seat. She was about to step inside and give the command to take her home when something slammed into the carriage from the other side, rocking it and almost making her lose her footing. She quickly regained her feet, hurrying to comfort the two black stallions that stamped and steamed at the sudden fright. The horses calmed beneath her touch as she peered round to the side of the carriage, seeing a group of adolescent boys not far from the carriage congratulating one of their party on their successful assault on an inanimate object.

She shook her head in amusement as they continued to tease one another, one of them daring to whistle as they realised she was standing there but quickly shrinking away as one of his friends said something about ‘the Dark One’s woman’. Belle felt a strange twist in her chest at the boy’s words, concentrating again on the horses as she prayed the blush that she felt on her cheeks was not bright enough to show. Her attention was drawn to them once more as an older feminine voice joined the youthful whoops and teasing from the boys.

“He’ll turn the lot of you into snails if you bother that young girl,” said the matronly woman as she cuffed one of the older boys smartly round the ear, “Don’t go messing with the Dark One’s things.”

“But mama…”

“But mama nothing young man,” she admonished, “If you want to live to see the solstice you’d best just leave well enough alone.”

The boys quickly dispersed but Belle paid them little mind, one word of the mother’s speech hanging in her mind. Solstice. It had been easy to lose track of time since she had become Rumpel’s maid, days merging into weeks and then into months, making festivals easy to forget. The solstice was one she had wished she had not been reminded off, the feast day nothing but misery for several years since her mother’s death. Before she had been killed Belle had enjoyed many years of the celebration from the moment she was able to let loose her mother’s skirts and participate in the day. It had been the year they had visited Avonlea before the feast day that had begun the tradition, Belle had seen a poor mother desperately bartering with a market vendor for a doll for her young child. The doll was no more than a few pieces of material stitched together with a painted on face but Belle, clutching her porcelain faced doll to her chest, had understood the wants of the poor child when the mother failed to procure the doll. She had cried long into the night, not understanding why she had many dolls and the little girl couldn’t have one and in the morning her mother had found her wrapping each and every one she owned in a wish to gift them to the children of Avonlea for the solstice.

Her mother had stilled her daughter’s actions with a promise and for the next week they had fashioned handmade dolls for all the young children in the city before they had gone out amongst the people and given their gifts to the joy of their charges. Belle had even been able to give the doll she had taken most time over to the little girl she had seen in the marketplace. It had become an annual tradition until her mother had died and when Belle had tried to take on the task alone the following year her father had forbidden it, calling the practice childish and locking her away in her gilded cage that it took a deal with the Dark One to free herself from. 

Belle looked back into the village, the scene not all that different from Avonlea, and she wondered at the idea that sprung to her mind. She reached into the small purse she carried, bypassing the gold that Rumpel had given her and pulling forth the few coins she had brought with her from Avonlea and heading back into the village. 

xxxx

It was several days later when Rumpelstiltskin began to notice a change in his young maid, the once effervescent personality he had come to enjoy seeming dulled and her sweet face bore the signs of ill rest. She was more forgetful than normal and more than once he had walked into a room she had been working in to find her quickly shooting up from a seat she had been dozing in as he walked through the door. He tried to put it down to homesickness, goodness only knew she had cried enough in her first few days in the castle but that malady had seemed to have passed once he had begun treating her like a person rather than a work horse and he had begun to hope that his presence was adequate companionship for her. Once he had dispelled the thought of her being homesick a more crushing idea came to him. 

Her malady had appeared not long after they had gone down to the village. He had taken her not because he had needed her but because he had wanted her to enjoy a day outside of the castle walls and give her a little more freedom than he had first granted her. She had seemed fine when he returned to the castle and she had greeted him warmly, hoping that he had not had a tedious journey back up the mountain after she had left with the carriage. She had seemed happy and talkative as she had prepared tea for them, rattling on about all she had seen and even regaling him with her amusement over the young boys who had dared one another to touch the carriage. She had not seemed at all worried by their visit but he began to wonder if something more sinister had occurred. He wasn’t well liked in the village but everyone kept their distance and their tongues in his presence but had Belle been an easy target for the ire they wished to direct at him? So concerned did he become that harm had befallen her he could not help but confront her on it when she brought in the tea tray that evening.

“You haven’t been sleeping Belle,” he said bluntly as she set the tray on the long table, “Is something the matter dearie?”

Belle looked up at him, forcing a smile to her pale face, “Nothing is wrong,” she said, fixing his tea with a practiced ease and setting it before him, “I’ve just had a little trouble sleeping, that’s all. It will pass soon.”

With a wave of his hand a chair caught the back of his maid’s legs, forcing her to sit down at the table beside him where usually she would have fixed her own tea and disappeared to the fireside with her book.

“You would tell me wouldn’t you Belle, if something was bothering you?” he said, “I am your master and responsible for your care.”

Belle’s smile was more genuine this time as she took the tea he handed her, “I promise I am quite well,” she said, “And if it will sate your curiosity I have found myself a little project to do but I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew and I’m struggling to finish by my deadline.”

Rumpel cocked an eyebrow in question, “Now you have me intrigued dearie,” he said, “Come now, indulge an old man and tell me what you’re doing, or is it some great plot to effect your escape and toddle back off into the arms of that insipid betrothed of yours.”

“Goodness no!” giggled Belle, “You saved me quite the torment there I’ll grant you. Gaston’s view of a good woman is someone who could praise his charms and bear his sons, not my view of a good match at all; I never know why Papa chose him for me. I have no plans to affect any kind of escape either, I gave you my word Rumpelstiltskin and I am not so fickle as to break it. Besides, I find myself quite content here with you.”

“You do?” came the surprised response.

Belle looked up from her cup to see an increasingly familiar softening of his weathered features as the fingers not holding his tea up worried his thumb as they always did when he was nervous or discomforted. She reached out and covered the busy hand with her own, squeezing his fingers.

“Of course I do, silly man,” she said softly, “You have your moments but you’ve been kind to me and you don’t treat me like my only use in life is to be pretty.”

“And I never intend to,” he said honestly before he let the mask of the imp fall back into the place, “Now then you are avoiding the subject. I want to know what has my little maid looking as though she has not slept for the past week.”

“You’ll think me foolish,” said Belle, frowning as he leant back in his chair, his fingers steepled before him as he waited for her explanation, “I’m making gifts for the children in the village, for the solstice. Its something my mother and I used to do but I forgot that I spent entire days at the task, with my mother to help me. I’m never going to get them finished.”

Rumpel frowned, “You’re making gifts for that lot down there?” he said, “You do realise that as a resident of this castle they will never appreciate anything you do for them.”

“Its not about reward Rumpel,” she said, “It’s about doing something to make this dark season a little brighter for people. I don’t expect them to say thank you, I imagine many may even be left on our doorstep for fear that they’re enchanted but I want to do it all the same. Now if that’s all I should fetch your supper. If you don’t mind I’d like to take mine in my room so I can work on some more dolls.”

Rumpel offered her a small smile, “Not at all dearie,” he said, “Leave mine in the kitchen, I may spin for a while before I eat anything. Try to get some sleep though; I don’t want to catch you dozing in the pantry again.”

Belle got to her feet, “I’ll have my candle out by midnight,” she said, “Goodnight Rumpelstiltskin.”

“Goodnight Belle,” came the reply after a moment as she headed to the door, turning back briefly to see him staring into the flames of the fireplace.

xxxx

Midnight came and went but Belle knew her master would not know if she was awake or asleep as she continued to sew by candlelight in her room. She had tried to sleep as promised but the scraps of material and needle glinting in the firelight had taunted her from her work table and she had pulled on her dressing robe, setting herself back to work. She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t hear the light tap on her door nor the sound of it opening; it was only her master’s concerned voice that finally roused her from her frantic sewing.

“I recall a promise from you that your candle would be out by midnight.”

Belle jumped, the doll and the needle falling to the rug at her feet as she looked up in alarm, “You frightened me,” she admonished, her hand coming up to cover her racing heart, “And its not far passed midnight.”

“Its gone three dearie,” said Rumpel, as he hovered in the doorway, “Belle, I do not want you to take ill. Please get some sleep.”

“But I wanted to finish this, I needed to…” Belle trailed off, hating the sound of her voice as tears sprung to her eyes, “Papa always stopped me even though it was all I had left of my mother. I’m sorry, I know you hate crying, I’ll be quiet.”

Silence was her answer before his voice rang out once more, softer and far more human than she had ever heard it, “You cry if you want to dearie,” he said, finally stepping into the room, “And I don’t want to stop you if this means that much to you. Perhaps we can reach a compromise.”

“What do you have in mind?” said Belle, managing a watery smile as he conjured a handkerchief from thin air and pressed it into her hand.

“Forget this for tonight,” he said, waving a hand over the wide array of half finished rag dolls, “Sleep until noon and then tomorrow afternoon you forget about your chores and you work on these in the daylight in the great hall. You are going to hurt your eyes sewing by candlelight; I speak from vast experience there my dear.”

“But I have work to do in the castle, the laundry and the…”

“The laundry can wait a day or two,” said Rumpel, taking her hands and raising her to her feet, “And you forget that I am over three hundred years old and have lived alone for the vast majority of that time, I can manage my own tea for a day. Now abed with you and should I see this candle burning at any point for the rest of the night I shall cast a charm that renders every flame useless. Am I understood?”

Belle nodded, enjoying the playful tone of his voice as well as the feel of his warm calloused hands in hers. Her breath caught in her throat as he pressed a fleeting kiss to her forehead before he turned her to her bed. She climbed into it, turning once she was settled to bid him goodnight only to find the space he had been occupying empty, the only evidence of his presence the remnants of red tinged smoke in the air, smoke that had not even had a moment to dissipate before sleep claimed her for its own.

xxxx

Despite her master’s instruction to sleep until noon, Belle rose by ten and was surprised to find another fine, warm dress laid across her ottoman, this one in an emerald hue with a square cut neckline and tight sleeves that ended just above her wrist. Matching slippers were set beside her dresser and jewel encrusted combs upon it and she fashioned her hair with them, realising she had had nothing as fine since her last birthday ball in Avonlea. She wondered at her master’s intentions in treating her so well, a world away from the fearsome creature he had tried to convince her he was when she had first arrived but she chose in the end not to question it and instead simply enjoy their strange yet wonderful friendship.

She hurried down the stairs, the thought of breakfast propelling her onwards as she caught the aroma of bacon permeating the air. She reached the great hall and stopped dead in the doorway at the sight before her. It was not the breakfast laid out elegantly on the table that gave her pause, though the small feast would have been enough on any other day, but the sight of many brightly coloured packages that all but obscured the far end of the table from view. Scraps of material littered the floor, as did several newly made dolls with spools of thread only adding to the mess. In the midst of it all, sat cross legged like some odd little tailor, was her master, his lithe fingers quick with the needle as he finished off another rag doll.

“Rumpel?” she said, barely keeping the giggle from her voice, “What are you doing?”

His shoulders stiffened before he looked over his shoulder at her, “I thought I told you to stay in bed till noon.”

Belle smiled, catching her bottom lip beneath her teeth, “Well I woke early and I was lonely on my own,” she said, “I thought I might catch you for tea but I didn’t expect to find this.”

“You were too far behind to get everything completed by the solstice,” said Rumpel, with a dismissive wave of his hand as he turned from her once more, “It would take you three solid days of work when you have but one, and the castle would be filthy by then and you would be wailing that everything was unfinished and late and I would never get a moment’s peace. I’m merely hurrying things along to save my eardrums.”

“You have magic,” said Belle, crossing the room, kneeling down beside him and taking up one of the finished rag dolls, “You could have conjured all we needed in seconds.”

“And have you whining that you wanted to do them by hand?” said Rumpel, swiftly tapping the back of her hand as she reached for a needle, “Ah! Breakfast first. I refuse to conjure up an entire new wardrobe for you because you wish to waste away from malnourishment; it is a waste of my time and magic.”

“I would hate to be a burden,” said Belle, pausing a moment to question herself before she swiftly kissed his cheek and got to her feet, “The dress is beautiful by the way, thank you.”

“It is enhanced by the wearer,” came the muttered response at her back as she headed to the table.

Belle felt her cheeks heat, daring to look back at him only to find his back to her once more as he worked away. She said nothing, turning her attention to the food set out on the table, swiftly sating her hunger before she returned to his side. They worked the day away, most of it spent in companionable silence as they fashioned the little dolls that would soon be gifts for the children in the village below. 

As night fell the last of the dolls were finished and wrapped in brightly coloured paper, the table littered with the pretty little packages and the floor with the remnants of their craft. Belle stretched her arms over her head, moaning as her spine popped before she flopped down on her back on the rug they sat on.

“Thank goodness that’s done,” she said, “I thought we’d never finish. Will you come with me to the village tomorrow to deliver them, you worked so hard today I don’t want to take all the credit?”

“Oh no my dear,” came the response from the mage as he reached over and plucked an errant thread of cotton from her hair, “You are quite welcome to the credit. They are no doubt going to chuck them back at your feet for fear they’re jinxed but if I am with you they’ll be aiming for our heads.”

Belle caught his hand before he could pull it away entirely, amazed by her own boldness but keeping hold of it all the same, “I wish they could see you as I do,” she said honestly.

“I doubt there’s anyone who sees me as you do, my odd little maid,” said the imp but the gentleness of his voice took any sting from his words, “I have an idea how you may deliver your gifts without them immediately being flung back at you though.”

Belle brightened at his words, “How?”

A wiggle of the fingers on his free hand told her all she needed to know and she nodded her acquiescence to the use of magic, trusting that it would be nothing dark or sinister after the care he had shown in the making of the gifts.

“We’ll have to wait until it’s near midnight for this to work,” he said, “If you want to rest a while I can fetch you when its time.”

Belle shook her head, pretending not to notice that the hand she held had moved until their fingers were laced together between them, “I’ve slept enough today. Let me make us supper. We can pass the time until then someway, I’m sure you’ve missed your spinning wheel today and I have a book I need to finish.”

Rumpel smiled, using their joined hands to help her rise to her feet, “If that is what you wish dearie,” he said, “I have a few things to prepare for our evening.”

“I’ll call you when supper is ready,” said Belle, offering him an elegant curtsey in response to his gallant bow before a cloud of red magic obscured him from view.

xxxx

Midnight found Belle wrapped up once more in her fur lined cape, her basket full to bursting with the colourful packages despite the charm Rumpel had woven over it to make it capable of holding far greater loads than its size naturally dictated. She was still none the wiser as to what the mage had planned but she was willing to follow his lead. She took his outstretched hand, lacing her fingers with his as he tugged her close to his side. With a wave of his hand he removed the heavy cover from the large mirror they stood in front of and Belle gasped to see nothing but the great hall stretching out in the image before them. She looked down at herself and then at the imp beside her before she gave a little squeal of delight.

“We’re invisible?” she said.

“A necessary spell if we are to achieve our goal tonight,” said Rumpel, returning the cover to the mirror, “Keep hold of my hand and don’t speak. Break either of those rules and we come straight back here.”

“Alright,” said Belle, bouncing on her toes, “Can we go?”

Rumpel nodded, a wave of his hand conjuring a familiar smoke that revealed an unfamiliar room when it dispersed. Belle’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room she found herself in, the small house barely more than one room with its owners slumbering in the bed nearby to where they stood. She suppressed a gasp as she turned to Rumpel, seeing the small half smile on his face at her reaction before he reached into the basket she carried, retrieving one of the wrapped packages and placing it on the table to be found when the occupants woke.

Keeping her word not to speak, Belle raised herself up on her toes and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, thanking him without words as his magic transported them to their next port of call. For the next few hours they magicked themselves from house to house, leaving gifts as they went, their invisibility proving useful on occasion when someone blinked to wakefulness at the rustle of paper or the soft tread of their boots but no one cried out in alarm or shock, merely putting the sound down to a dream and turning back to their pillows.

By the time they had delivered the last of their parcels Belle felt the day begin to catch her, her grip on Rumpel’s hand all but holding her up as he finally transported them back to the castle. She stifled a yawn with her hand as Rumpel released his grip on her, taking the basket from her and setting it on the table before he reached for the clasp of her cloak. He did not get a chance to set it on the table though, instead letting it fall to the floor as Belle wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck with a sigh.

“Thank you so much,” she said softly, “I’ve had a wonderful time.”

“You’re very welcome,” said Rumpel, shaking off his hesitation and returning her embrace, “Belle, with it being the feast day tomorrow, I don’t mind amending our deal somewhat.”

“Mmm?” murmured Belle sleepily against his throat, “How so?”

“I could take you back to Avonlea and you could visit with your father for a few hours.”

Belle moved back until she could see his face, her hand coming up to his cheek to prevent him turning away from her, “As tempting as that offer is I will have to decline,” she said, “My father will be happily surrounded by courtiers and simpering yes men who will bow to his whim and fill his glass on demand. You said yourself you have spent many years and therefore many feast days alone but this year won’t be one of them.”

Belle took advantage of the stunned silence of the mage before her, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she stepped back fully from him, “Get some sleep Rumpelstiltskin,” she said, “I expect to see you for breakfast in the morning. Good night.”

It was only when she was halfway to the stairs that she heard his voice follow her and she smiled at his words.

“Good night dearest.”

When morning dawned the villagers below the Dark Castle were at a loss to explain the appearance of such exquisitely made dolls that had been left for every child but the occupants of the castle above paid little mind to their troubles, content in a small party of two as they welcomed the feast day as friends.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello dearies. Well here is part two of my fluffy little fic. Thank you so much for the reviews for part one. As we’re going non canon I’m pretending that they came back from Neverland without Pan causing any drama or Rumpel having to make his sacrifice. So Baelfire is in Storybrooke with his Papa and they’re looking forward to their first Christmas as a family. This is just my very, very fluffy take on what Rumpel would do if he got Bae back for good.

Belle French gently removed her hand from the warm grip it was held in, turning the page in her book before she returned her hand to its previous resting place. She sighed contentedly as familiar soft lips pressed to her cheek, the body she laid against emitting a relaxed sigh and she could imagine the soft expression on his face, eyes closed as the strands of his shaggy hair fell across his face. She enjoyed her job as Storybrooke’s librarian but it was her lunch breaks when she would cross the street to the little pawnshop and spend an hour in the company of the man she loved that was the highlight of her working day. The way they spent their time varied daily, sometimes she would help him with a project in the shop or look over the books if it was rent day. Other times they would talk over tea, shared reminiscences or hopes for the future depending on their mood, but Belle’s favourite days were the ones spent as she found herself now, Rumpel holding her safe and secure in his arms as she read or simply enjoyed the embrace that a curse, memory loss or Neverland had tried so had to deprive her of.

It had been several months since Rumpel had returned from Neverland, Baelfire at his side and his grandson recovered from the clutches of Peter Pan. Storybrooke had been quiet since and they had been slowly building a life for themselves in their quaint little town. People were still distrustful of Rumpelstiltskin despite the change in his countenance since Baelfire had been restored to him; the mantel of Dark One still too easily applied even when he restricted his use of magic to only when it was necessary. It had been both Belle’s and Baelfire’s wish that he did so and so far he had kept his word and had even begun to work on a way to safely rid himself of his curse once and for all. Belle had enjoyed watching Rumpel’s relationship with his son grow and mend, both accepting their past and striving to make a future. To everyone else in Storybrooke Rumpel’s son was known by his chosen pseudonym of Neal but to Belle and his father he would always be Bae and he had given up trying to convince them otherwise.

The younger man had yet to make a full move to Storybrooke, spending time between the town and Manhattan but Belle hoped it wouldn’t be too long until he put down roots as his relationship with Emma went from strength to strength, the pair of them working to build a life together with plenty of help from their son Henry. Rumpel was always quieter whenever his son was out of town, years of separation leaving him with an anxiety not easily put aside when his son wasn’t within arms reach. This time was no exception and Belle was loathed to break the embrace she knew brought him some comfort but she knew she had only a few minutes left before she had to leave for the library once more. Rumpel’s arm tightened around her waist, clearly making the same realisation in regard to the time.

“Its far too cold and icy for you to go running around outside,” he said against her ear, “It would be irresponsible of me to let you do so. You’ll just have to stay in here all afternoon.”

“I’m afraid there would be several disappointed children should they miss their afternoon out to the library,” said Belle, “It gives them a chance to play on their phones and ignore what their teacher is reading to them.”

“That’s not until two thirty,” said Rumpel, deftly removing the book from her hand and setting it on the floor beside the cot they reclined on, “Stay here until then, no one is going to come by in this weather. I could close up early…”

“Is your mind slipping into the gutter Mr Gold?” Belle giggled as warm lips came to press against her throat, his hands splaying out against her abdomen but intent on wondering further.

“I can’t think what you could possibly mean Miss French,” came the husky response at her ear, “I’m merely making sure you’re sufficiently warm in this dreadful weather.”

Belle turned in his arms, easily repositioning herself to sit astride his lap as she threaded her fingers into his soft hair. She caught his lips with hers; revelling in the familiar warmth that rushed through her as his tongue traced her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She didn’t deny him, the kiss muffling her moan as his skilled hands fell to her thighs as his fingers slowly hitched up the short skirt she wore. She giggled as he broke the kiss, eyes widening as he encountered the lacy stocking tops rather than the tights she knew he was expecting.

“I’m quite scandalized you wear such things around the youth of our little town,” he said before his grin turned wicked, “I really must make a closer study.”

Belle’s giggles turned into full blown laughter as she found herself with her skirt hitched around her waist and her lover’s clever fingers tracing the edges of her lacy stockings, “Rumpel!” she cried, “At least lock the door. Anyone could walk in.”

“Can I unwrap my Christmas present if I do?”

Belle rolled her eyes, biting her lip to suppress a moan as his fingers forgot the stockings and moved higher, “Christmas is not for another three days,” she said, “And I thought it was a lot of nonsense?”

“I’ve been otherwise convinced,” said Rumpel, his lips tracing along her jaw until he reached her ear, “Stay Belle.”

Belle knew it was pointless to resist and instead covered his hands with her own, encouraging his movements, “Lock the door Rumpel.”

The mage released a hand to cast the necessary spell but dropped it with a groan as the bell sounded in the front of the shop, “Merry fucking Christmas,” he growled in exasperation.

“Gold! Where are you? I want a word!” Leroy shouted from the front.

“And a happy bloody new year,” hissed the sorcerer, “Can I turn him into a snail? Just for a while?”

“No you can’t,” said Belle, climbing out of his lap and slipping her feet into her discarded heels, calling out to their customer, “Just a moment Leroy!”

“Belle!” growled Rumpel, reaching for her hand.

“You should have locked the door sooner,” she said, before she looked pointedly down at his lap, trying to suppress a giggle at his obvious discomfort, “I wouldn’t come out for a minute if I were you.”

With a swish of her hips she knew he would noticed she headed towards the curtain that concealed the back room from the shop front, pushing it aside just enough to let herself through. She smiled warmly at Leroy who stood near the front counter, the dwarf managing one in return though she could tell by the set of his jaw that the visit wasn’t intended to be a pleasant one.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” she said, “Rumpel is working on something in the back at the moment but I’m sure I can find whatever you need.”

“Thanks sister but it was the Dark One that I wanted a word with,” said the dwarf, “He’s been upsetting people again and it’s about time someone did something about it.”

Belle crossed her arms across her chest, “And when did this occur?” she said, “Because I’ve been here for the past hour and before that he was working here since we came in this morning.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t upset anyone,” said Leroy, “He made Snow cry this morning.”

“I assure you I did nothing of the sort,” said Rumpel, pushing the curtain aside, “I won’t deny seeing Miss Blanchard this morning but I recall no tears. In fact she invited Belle and I over for Christmas Eve, hardly the actions of a woman I’d upset.”

“She said you wouldn’t let her by that,” said Leroy, pointing towards the glittering crystal mobile that hung to the side of the desk, “She was really upset.”

“I never forbade Miss Blanchard to buy anything,” said Rumpel, “She simply enquired as to the price and I told her. She made her own choice in regards to purchasing it.”

“She shouldn’t have to purchase it!” snapped Leroy, hands balling into fists at his side, “It’s hers. Nothing in this shop belongs to you, it belongs to everyone here but you’re just too selfish and mean to let them have them back.”

“If you have issue with the positioning of any artefacts in this town dearie might I suggest you turn your enquiries to Mayor Mills,” said Rumpel, his tone calm but the edge to his voice could not be easily missed, “It was her curse and her decision where everything was placed, to that end I am merely fulfilling my part in her grand scheme. Now if that will be all, I have a shop to run, so unless you intend to buy something might I show you the door?”

“Why you…”

Leroy’s growl was cut short as the bell sounded above the door once more, a gust of cold air coming in alongside a heavily bundled figure struggling with a large duffle bag as he tried to pull the scarf away from his face with gloved fingers. There was no need for the figure to reveal his face though for Rumpel to recognise him, a name leaving him in both surprise and relief.

“Bae?”

“Hey Papa, Hi Belle,” said Neal, finally wrestling himself free from his scarf and dropping his bag at his feet as he turned to face them, “Oh, am I interrupting something? I can…”

“No, stay,” said Rumpel quickly, “Leroy was just leaving.”

“This isn’t over Gold,” said the dwarf as he headed to the door, “Cassidy.”

Neal frowned as he stepped aside to let the smaller man past, his brow still furrowed as he turned to his father, “Is everything alright Papa?”

“Its fine son,” said Rumpel, stepping round the counter to hug him, “We weren’t expecting you until Christmas Eve.”

“I decided to come a couple of days early,” said Neal, returning the embrace, “Manhattan was crazy with shoppers and I didn’t fancy sitting in holiday traffic all the way here, it’s a five hour drive at the best of times.”

“I did offer to pay for a flight,” said Rumpel, stepping back from him. 

Belle pulled her coat from beneath the desk as she watched father and son greet one another, the awkwardness that had existed when they were first reunited almost completely gone from them and she was glad of it. She slipped on her coat and hauled her purse over her shoulder before she crossed to the two men.

“I’ll leave you two to catch up,” she said, “I need to get back to work.”

“You just got here,” said Rumpel. 

Belle pressed a kiss to his lips, “I’ll meet you here after I close up this evening,” she said, reaching out to squeeze Neal’s arm as she headed to the door, “Welcome home Bae. Henry’s class comes in to the library at half two if you want to swing by, I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

“Thanks Belle, I’ll stop by,” said Neal, “Do you want me to walk you over there?”

Belle shook her head, “Your father would never forgive me if I stole you away so soon,” she said, “I’m sure we’ll have time to catch up later.”

The bell sounded her exit, both men watching her go before Neal turned to his father with a smile.

“You look ridiculously happy,” he said, “It’s a new one on you.”

“Belle’s a remarkable woman,” said Rumpel, gesturing to the back room, “Tea? I don’t exactly get much of a Christmas rush in here.”

“After a day’s worth of service station coffee, tea sounds great,” said Neal, picking up his bag and following him to the back of the shop.

“Speaking of Belle,” said Rumpel, “Did you manage to get what I needed from New York?”

Neal set his duffle bag down on the nearest work bench and pulled a small, pale green bag from the side pocket, “I swear they thought I was going to rob the place when I walked in there but once they had your credit card in their hands they were more than happy to serve me,” he said, “They thought the engraving was very sweet by the way.”

Rumpel took the bag from his hand and reached inside, pulling out the small box and opening it, the elegant solitaire ring winking in the light from the lamp overhead, “I’m worried it might be a bit too ostentatious,” he said, “Belle was nobility once but she has simpler tastes than most.”

Neal covered his father’s free hand with his own, stopping the small tremble there, “She’ll love it Papa,” he said, “When are you going to ask her?”

“No idea,” said Rumpel, closing the box with a sharp click and placing it in the inside pocket of his jacket, “How long are you in town for this time?”

Neal shook his head at the sudden change in conversation, “Until new year, then I’ll head back to Manhattan and give my landlord and my boss my notice.”

Rumpel’s fingers worried his thumb as he met his son’s gaze, “And then?”

“Then I find something to do around here and, well, Emma and I were talking about getting a place,” said Neal, his hand coming absently to the back of his head as he tried to keep the smile from his face, “She’s getting fed up with how crowded it is at her parent’s and it would be nice for Henry to have a room of his own rather than bunking on the floor the nights he stays with Emma.”

“Should I anticipate being related to the Charmings in the near future then?” said Rumpel.

“You technically already are,” said Neal, leaning back against the workbench, his eyes on his shoes, “I know you and Emma don’t have the best history but do you think you can get on with her?”

Rumpel huffed out a laugh, “Contrary to the opinion of most I find Miss Swan quite tolerable,” he said, “And if it means you’ll settle down here permanently then I’ll do everything in my power to assist. Have you thought about a job?”

Neal shrugged, “I’m sure I’ll find something to do,” he said.

“Would you work with your old man?” said Rumpel, busying himself with the kettle and avoiding looking at his son’s face.

Neal was silent for a moment, “I’m not exactly an expert in antiques.”

Rumpel allowed himself a small smile as no outright denial came from the younger man, “Well I’m thinking of a new business venture that might suit you better,” he said, “I need to talk it over with Belle but I can’t imagine she’ll speak against it.”

“You’re as cryptic as ever,” said Neal, “I’d just prefer if it didn’t involve magic.”

“It wouldn’t involve magic,” said Rumpel, “And you’d be more than capable.”

Neal laughed, “Keep your riddles until you’ve spoken to Belle then,” he said, taking a cup of tea as it was offered, “Now tell me what your plans are for Christmas.”

xxxx

It was the following night when Belle hurried into the pawnshop as the wind howled at her back, snow swirling around her as she escaped from the cold. The door swung back on its hinges of its own accord as she stood in shock at the sight before her. Boxes covered every available surface, brown paper and packing string littered around the man sat cross legged on the floor in the middle of it all. A man she was used to being nothing but impeccably dressed, who now wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a white button down that looked like it had seen better days, dust clinging to it in places from the artefacts he had been moving.

“Rumpel?” she said, breaking him out of his reverie, “What on earth is going on?”

He smiled up at her before he went back to wrapping some of the items that had once graced the shelves, “Come and sit with me,” he said, holding out a hand to help her to the floor beside him.

Belle kicked off her heels and tossed her coat onto the nearest counter before she settled beside him, squeaking in surprise as the light kiss she normally received in greeting from him swiftly became something more. She pressed a hand to his chest when he finally released her, searching his gaze and seeing nothing but happiness radiating back at her.

“Who are you and what have you done with Rumpelstiltskin?” she said, unable to keep the smile from her face, “I usually walk in here to at least five minutes of moaning about whoever came in the bother you before you decide you don’t hate the entire town. Did we slip into the twilight zone?”

“Am I not allowed to be happy?” said Rumpel though there was no reproach in his words, “I have a beautiful woman at my side, my son is talking about settling down here permanently and I unearthed a memory earlier that made a decision I’ve been toying with a little easier.”

Belle’s eyes lit with the excitement of a discovery, “What did you find?” she said, trying to see around him as he reached out of view, pulling something that had been concealed by the brown paper packing.

She gasped as happy tears sprang to her eyes, reaching out for the familiar doll that she had thought forever lost when she left the Dark Castle, “Missy doll,” she said cuddling it to her chest, “I can’t believe you kept her, wherever did you find her?”

Rumpel smiled, watching her hug the doll as she had the first time he had given it to her. It had been the only solstice celebration they had shared together in the Dark Castle and they had spent the day before it making little rag dolls for children of the village the castle was patron to and the night delivering them under the cover of both magic and darkness. He had hidden one he had made though, the stitching his finest and the doll far more accomplished than the others. He had had it wrapped and waiting for her when she had joined him on the morning of the solstice for a late breakfast, resplendent in a dress of rose coloured velvet and she hadn’t let the small doll from her sight for the rest of the day. 

“She was in the bottom of a box I hadn’t managed to look in in the twenty-eight years I’ve had this place,” he said, “I found her this afternoon, it brought back so many memories.”

Belle blushed prettily, biting on her lip, “It was the most wonderful day,” she said, “Even if I did end up falling all over the place after too much wine.”

“Now you see some of my favourite, if most frustrating memories, come from the moment you had a glass too many,” he said, tugging on her hand to pull her closer to him, “My best memory the one where you climbed into my lap and proceeded to pet my hair like I was some sort of puppy and repeat the word pretty, pretty, pretty over and over whilst…well, bouncing. I really didn’t understand the word restraint until that night.”

Belle’s blush only deepened but she giggled all the same, “I honestly thought I could tolerate wine better than that but I was desperately trying to find the confidence to kiss you,” she said, “Until I fell asleep on you and woke up alone in my bed.”

Rumpel brushed a lock of hair back from her face, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw, “If its any comfort I held you for several hours before I carried you up,” he said, “That day was one of the best of my life but I hope we will have so many more to add to it and I thought we could start with revisiting some of the things we did back then.”

Belle looked out over the partially wrapped objects, noticing the labels on them bearing the names of the towns people, “You’re planning to…?” she said, turning to him, “What are you going to do with the shop?”

“I’ve got a bit of an idea,” said Rumpel, getting to his feet and helping her up, “Why don’t we head home and I can tell you about it. We can finish here tomorrow and then tomorrow night, we are going to work.”

Belle laughed, hugging him tightly, “You, my darling, will never cease to surprise me,” she said, kissing him, “But you do realise everyone is going to think you’ve finally lost it.”

“Maybe I have,” he said, keeping hold of her, “Do you mind if I magic us home? I don’t want to have to dig the car out of a snow drift.”

“So long as its straight to the bedroom,” said Belle, with a coy smile, “I want to bounce on your lap and call you pretty.”

His answer was little more than a growl and a puff of red tinged smoke, the lingering magic locking the doors and turning off the lights of the former pawn shop.

xxxx

Christmas Eve at the Charmings’ had been an interesting affair but Rumpel had borne it with good grace, Belle’s constant presence at his side and Henry and Bae never much further making it more than tolerable. They had said their goodbyes when the board games started to appear, Rumpel not trusting himself to engage in any sort of competition with the paragons of fairness. He didn’t feel the wrench of separation from Bae as they left, he and Emma planning to be round early the following morning and Henry, Regina and the Charmings set to follow for lunch, the invite having surprised even Rumpel himself as he offered it.

The snow had settled but the paths were clear enough that it wasn’t too much of a struggle to get back to the shop, a sign in the window announcing that it was ‘closed for refurbishment’ but only Belle and Rumpel knew the true meaning behind it. They stepped into the darkened shop, every surface now littered with wrapped parcels of every shape and size. Belle turned on a lamp, the light enough for what they needed as she watched Rumpel wave an enchantment over a bag, the parcels all flying into it but never once did it look full. Finally the shop was all but empty, only a few curios remaining that had been either hers or Rumpel’s when the curse had been cast and Belle felt a pang of regret at the sight of it. She pushed it aside though, knowing a new chapter of their lives was about to begin. 

Rumpel looked up from checking the bag, meeting her gaze with a smile that seemed brighter every time he offered it, a world away from the sardonic looks that had been his for so many years. His gaze raked her figure and Belle did all she could not to fidget under the scrutiny, wondering what had caught his gaze from the tall heels, pencil skirt, modest blouse or winter coat.

“Seeing as we are embarking on a little tradition,” he said, with a wave of his fingers, “I think a little change would suit.”

Belle felt his magic surround her and looked down to find herself in a familiar emerald velvet gown, the same he had gifted her on the eve of the solstice so many years ago. She spun on the spot, loving the feel of the material against her legs and watching as it flowed around her. 

“Oh Rumpel this is wonderful,” she said, raising her head, “It’s…oh my!”

A small smirk quirked the lips of the mage before her as her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of him. Gone was the man she had come to know, suit and tie forgotten for leather and high laced boots but it was not his clothes that stopped her heart in her chest. Before her stood the master of the Dark Castle, gold flecked skin, wiry hair and wild eyes as she remembered so fondly in her dreams. 

“I thought I would suit the part one last time,” he said, even his voice in the higher register that haunted the hallways of their former home, “It’s only a glamour, nothing permanent.”

“Rumpel,” said Belle, her hand trembling as she reached out to him, her fingers tracking the skin of his cheek as though she expected the colour to fade as she did so, “You are so beautiful, in every form I’ve ever known. Can I… if I kiss you..?”

“It’s just a glamour,” said Rumpel, “Your kiss won’t have anymore effect on my curse than it normally does but would it be so bad if it did?”

“That’s not my decision to make,” said Belle, “I want you free but I want it to be on your terms. I know your magic is important to you.”

Rumpel shook his head, “It pales in comparison to the importance of you and Bae,” he said, “Magic is my crutch. You are my heart.”

Curse or no, Belle could not have stopped herself from kissing him, her hand knotting into his wild hair as she pressed herself to his lithe form. Sure, strong hands held her waist, the heat of them like a brand even through the heavy material of her dress, anchoring her to her own body as her heart seemed to want to leap from her in the hope of melding closer with his. She struggled to catch her breath as he finally released her, his forehead pressed to hers and she was glad to find him equally breathless.

“We should get on,” he said, the pitch of his voice far lower with the effects of his desire, “If we stay here any longer we won’t be leaving for the rest of the night.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” said Belle, her hands framing his face as she drank in the sight of the features she had sorely missed, “But if my dear master commands it, the little maid must obey.”

Rumpel groaned at her words, “Vixen,” he said, taking a step back from her in before he gave in to her teasing, “Come on, sooner we’re done the sooner we’re home.”

Belle took his outstretched hand as he picked up the bag at his feet. She felt his magic surround them as he once more shielded their appearance from view, invisibility allowing them to move from home to home without alerting the residents of Storybrooke to their presence. With one final look around the empty shop Belle turned to him with a nod and together they disappeared on their mission.

It took them far longer to visit every house in Storybrooke, leaving their packages beneath trees and beside beds as the residents slept. Once or twice their presence was almost noticed but it was swiftly dismissed as a dream or as an effect of too much Christmas cheer, allowing them to move on without confrontation.

They finally reappeared in their own front room, Rumpel lighting a fire with a wave of his hand before a bottle of wine and two goblets filled with the ruby liquid settled on the low coffee table. He tossed away the now empty bag before pulling her into his arms, holding her tightly as she rested her head sleepily against his shoulder. 

“Did you enjoy yourself my darling?” he said.

Belle nodded, “I can’t wait for the fall out in the morning,” she said, “They’re going to think you have an ulterior motive.”

“They can think as they please,” he said, “I have no need for their good opinion when I have yours.”

Belle smiled, taking his hands as she took a step back from him, “Always,” she said, reaching her hand up to his cheek as he let go of the glamour, appearing before her as a man once more, “It was fun seeing the old you again but I love this face.”

“It’s the one you’re stuck with.”

“Good,” said Belle, letting go of his hands and turning to pick up the goblets of wine but he took hold of them once more and stopped her.

“There’s one more thing,” said Rumpel, his hands fidgeting nervously with hers, before he loosed one and reached into his pocket.

Belle’s eyes widened in surprise at the sight of the ring in his hand, tears jumping to her eyes, “Oh god yes!” she said before he had a chance to even kneel, let alone speak, “Yes. A hundred times, yes.”

“I thought I was meant to ask you first,” said Rumpel, Belle cutting off any further witty words as she kissed him soundly. 

“You don’t need to ask for something that’s already yours,” said Belle, as he slipped the ring onto her finger, “You have had my heart for so long, you had no need to ask for my hand.”

“I should have done so long ago,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hand where the ring now glittered in the firelight, “I should have let you break my curse.”

Belle shook her head, “You needed to find Bae,” she said, “And I’m glad you did. Now the two of us can find a way to help you to break free from it, if that’s what you want.”

A small smile played at Rumpel’s lips as he looked up from the study of her hand and back to her eyes, “I might know a way you can help right now actually,” he said, “I was going to wait until after the holidays but come with me.”

“Rumpel?” said Belle, following him as he led her from the room; hope flaring in her chest as they headed to the basement below. 

xxxx

Christmas morning in Storybrooke dawned crisp and cold, the snow still covering the ground but thankfully no longer falling. A chilly wind still wrapped around anyone who dared to be outside though and Neal was glad of Emma’s warm form next to him as they made their way towards the large pink Victorian that was a world away from the home he had known as a child. They had risen early, escaping the Charming household before Mary Margaret or David had begun to stir and heading towards the promise of breakfast at his father’s house. 

Emma’s phone beeped for the fifth time in as many minutes, the voicemail from the sheriff’s office immediately redirecting to her when there was no one in attendance. She tried to extract her arm from his grip to reach for it but he held her firm.

“Can we get warm first before you get on to business?” he said, “You know what Papa is like if I’m not where he expects me to be and we don’t want him grumpy today.”

Emma smiled up at him, “Your dad is always grumpy but Belle won’t let him be too morose today,” she said, looking up at the house as they headed into the driveway, “Are you sure he’s happy for me to be here this early?”

“Of course,” said Neal, “You and he need to get to know one another properly. He’s not so bad really.”

Emma hugged his arm tightly as they headed up to the house, Neal pulling the keys from his pocket and unlocking the door. The sound of the radio playing the obligatory Christmas tunes met them as Neal led them inside, taking Emma’s coat and hanging it on the rack beside his own. 

“Papa?” he called out, “Belle?”

“Kitchen!” came Belle’s voice in response, mirth apparent in her tone.

Neal led Emma through the spacious living room, the large tree festooned with ribbons, glass baubles and lights that flickered on and off in a constantly altering pattern. The tastefully decorated tree was clearly Belle’s doing, even the presents wrapped beneath it matching the blue and gold colour scheme. The kitchen was lit by the sunlight streaming through the windows and warmed by the already busy oven, but the occupants were not in the state either Neal or Emma had expected. Where the guests to the house had expected to be greeted by their hosts dressed for the day, they instead found them both wrapped in dressing gowns with breakfast spread out on the counter before them, a picture of domesticity that Emma found entirely too alien when it was Gold in the setting.

“Are we too early?” said Neal, his face equally as confused as the woman beside him.

“Not at all Bae,” said Rumpel, pushing two coffee cups towards them, “We’re just a little behind.”

“Someone forgot to set the alarm,” said Belle, smiling up at the man next to her, “We were up late and ended up oversleeping.”

Emma’s phone began ringing in her pocket and she excused herself to answer it, heading back into the living room so as not to disturb anyone.

“No need to stand on ceremony son,” said Rumpel, “Sit down and eat, we did invite you both for breakfast.”

Neal hopped up into the barstool next to the counter they sat at, watching his father as he noticed how much lighter and happier he seemed but the answer soon presented itself as the light flashed off the ring on Belle’s finger and he broke into a happy smile.

“Do I need to start calling you Mom, Belle?” he said, watching the pretty blush come to the young woman’s cheeks.

“I think Belle will do just fine,” she said with a smile, “Your Papa asked me last night. Do we have your blessing Baelfire? I know you don’t know me well but…”

“Hey, no need to ask me,” said Neal, getting to his feet and hugging his father before pressing a kiss to Belle’s cheek, “Congratulations. I’m happy for you both.”

Any response was cut off as Emma came back into the room, her face a picture of concern, “Gold, I need a word.”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” said Rumpel, sharing an indulgent smile with his fiancée, “Yes Sheriff Swan?”

“Do you know anything about people finding wrapped packages in their houses this morning?” said Emma, scowling at Neal as he laughed at the question, “Shut up Cassidy.”

Rumpel smirked, “I think local folklore has a story about a large man in a red suit who likes to squeeze himself down chimneys and deliver presents?” he said, “I’m sure Belle has a book you can borrow.”

“Don’t be clever Gold,” said Emma, “People are finding parcels in their houses and everything in them used to be in your shop despite belonging to them in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Then they should be happy to have their things back,” said Rumpel, with a dismissive wave of his hand, “I had no further use for them, I’m leaving the antiquities business.”

“You are?” said Neal, “Is this what you were talking about the other day?”

“In part,” said Rumpel, “I find myself with a change in circumstance and I think a new career path might be in order.”

He opened a drawer in the counter and pulled out a familiar dagger, setting it on the table in front of his son.

“Pick it up Bae,” he said, watching as Neal tentatively took up the blade that had haunted their relationship for so long.

Neal turned it in his hands, frowning as the name that had once been emblazoned on it was absent, “I don’t understand.”

“Command me to hop on one leg,” said Rumpel, “Or stand on my head, the more ridiculous the better.”

Neal frowned at the dagger and then at his father before he held the blade before him, “Dark One,” he said, a small catch in his voice as he spoke, “I command you to…pass me that cup.”

Rumpel moved his hand towards the coffee cup Neal pointed at but then he took his hand away, “No I don’t think I will,” he said, unable to suppress his smile as both Neal and Emma looked at him dumbstruck.

“It can’t control you anymore?” said Emma, “How did you manage it?”

“With great ease in the end,” said Rumpel, “I just ceased to be the Dark One.”

“How?” said Neal, “Papa, how? I thought it was impossible. You said that it would only work with true love’s kiss and something about being here stopped that.”

Rumpel smiled down at Belle as she rested her head on his shoulder, “A kiss wouldn’t work here its true,” he said, “But it doesn’t diminish the fact that its still true love and powerful in its own right. I bottled true love from Snow White and her prince and used it to bring magic here, whose to say I couldn’t do the same again. I used strands of our hair, mix it with a powerful sundering charm and my own dark magic and the curse is no more, it can’t be passed on, it can’t be reborn. It’s gone forever along with my magic but that’s a price I was more than willing to pay, I achieved my aim in keeping on the curse when I found you again.”

Neal said nothing, setting the dagger down and leaving his seat to hug his father, the embrace one born of relief and elation in equal measure, “I can’t believe it’s gone,” he said, “When did you…”

“Last night,” said Rumpel, “So you’ll have to forgive me if I’m a little out of sorts today, its taking some getting used to.”

“You’ve got no magic at all?” said Emma. 

“Not a bit,” said Rumpel, “Henceforth I am entirely dull and ordinary.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t agree there darling,” said Belle, “My future husband is nowhere near ordinary and I won’t have anyone say anything to the contrary.”

“Future husband?” said Emma, “Did I miss something?”

Rumpel laughed, getting to his feet and reaching for the cane leant against the counter, using it to support his weight as he helped Belle down from her stool, “Bae, can you bring Miss…Emma up to date?” he said, “I think its time we made ourselves presentable. Help yourself to breakfast…and your Christmas present.”

Rumpel slid a document folder across the counter to his son before he tucked Belle’s arm into his, leading her out of the kitchen as both Emma and Neal looked on silently, shock and confusion at the events they had witnessed apparent on their faces.

“My Papa gave up his magic,” said Neal finally, a small smile tugging at his lips, “I’m waiting for him to drop the other shoe.”

“And an engagement to Belle isn’t one?” said Emma.

Neal shrugged, “I knew that was coming,” he said, “Papa told me his intentions weeks ago. I can’t believe he said nothing about his curse though.”

“That’s gonna be big news around here,” said Emma, “I still don’t quite believe it. What’s in the envelope?”

Neal reached for the wallet, pulling out the paperwork he found inside, his eyes widening as he read the first page, “The other shoe,” he said breathlessly, “The sneaky old man dropped the other shoe.”

“What?” said Emma, snatching the paperwork from him as he failed to answer her, her expression mirroring his as she looked down at the document in her hand, “Neal why are our names on this?”

“Because my Papa is giving us a house as a Christmas present,” he said, not quite believing his own words.

Emma rifled through the paperwork, everything legal an in order to her unpractised eye but she paused as she came to a sheet of paper that looked out of place, “And a drawing,” she said, handing it to Neal and watching as tears leapt to his dark eyes, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said, holding the drawing reverently before him, tracing his finger over the well drawn image of a spinning wheel sat in the corner of a room, counters littered with spun and woven goods, “Its our shop. The one we always wanted to have when I was small. Papa promised me that one day we would have our own shop where we could sell everything we made. He said he’d help me with a job but I never thought…do you think you’d be happy as a spinner’s wife?”

Emma smiled, setting the housing deed back on the table and wrapping her arms around the man before her, the sunlight glinting off the ring on her left hand, “I think I’d be very happy as a spinner’s wife,” she said, “At least I don’t have to worry about being the Dark One’s daughter in law though. One thing though, no double wedding with your dad and Belle. Our family is weird enough already.”

“Only going to get weirder with Regina, Henry and your parents coming along later,” said Neal.

Emma laughed, “Merry Christmas indeed,” she said, frowning as she heard a giggle followed by a growl from the floor above them, “Oh hell no! Neal turn up the music.”

With a laugh Neal did as he was bidden, watching as Emma fled to the relative safely of the living room. He pulled a pen from his jacket pocket, writing on the drawing and leaving it where his father would find it when he returned to the kitchen. Four simple words he knew would serve better than any Christmas present he could give.

‘When do I start?’


End file.
